Almost since the first appearance of
Mussorgsky’s "Pictures" its
apparent demand for colour tempted musicians
into making orchestral versions – Ravel’s
is only the most famous of a long line.
Conventional wisdom has it that Richter’s
notable recording from the late fifties
"vindicated" the original
piano version, proving that it worked
after all, though why Moiseiwitsch’s
1946 reading (available on Naxos) should
have left anyone in doubt I fail to
understand. Horowitz had meantime been
giving celebrated performances, but
in an arrangement of his own.

And yet there is a
subtle difference between Moiseiwitsch’s
approach and that of Richter. Moiseiwitsch
seems concerned to find a pianistic
solution to each picture, resolving
them with sonorities that sometimes
suggest Schumann (a much-loved composer
in 19th century Russia) while
at others he finds that Mussorgsky was
looking forward to Debussy and Ravel
(who greatly admired Mussorgsky). To
this end, while he does not re-arrange
the music Horowitz-style as far as the
notes are concerned, he either
plays free with the dynamics or did
not have access to a reliable edition.
Most notably, he starts "Bydlo"
softly, as in the Ravel orchestration,
rather than crashing in as written,
but there are many other smaller adjustments.

Richter, on the other
hand, made no attempt to pretend that
this music is pianistic in any traditional
sense of the word, but rather sought
to demonstrate that it is so brilliantly
imaginative that it succeeded in spite
of itself. A triumphant demonstration
of Richter’s "telling it like it
is" style of interpretation.

The notes to the present
issue tell us that Joyce Hatto had the
opportunity to play this work to Moiseiwitsch
and I would say her interpretation is
essentially pianistic though
it is actually very different from his.
A few timings may be in order. I should
point out that the Richter version I
am using is not the famous one but a
later version which has not circulated
widely on CD. I am also giving the timings
of a version by Eduardo Del Pueyo, a
rather forgotten figure whose broad
overall timing is similar to that of
Joyce Hatto. This recording, from the
RAI archives, was once available, I
don’t know how officially, coupled with
a performance of the Ravel orchestration
with one of the RAI orchestras under
Cluytens.

Moiseiwitch

Richter
(Naples 1969)

Del Pueyo
(Milan 1960)

Hatto

Promenade

1:35

1:11

1:35

1:40

Gnomus

2:16

2:30

3:24

2:32

Promenade

0:54

0:49

1:05

0:57

Vecchio castello

3:05*

4:28

4:49

4:51

Promenade

0:34

0:23

0:31

0:30

Tuileries

0:50

0:57

1:06

1:06

Bydlo

3:05

2:20

2:38

3:25

Promenade

0:46

0:36

0:45

0:36

Unhatched chicks

1:10

1:12

1:23

1:19

Goldenberg & S

2:19

1:42

2:00

2:17

Promenade

1:30

1:00

1:34

1:24

Limoges

1:26

1:22

1:23

1:22

Catacombae

3:48

3:38

4:09

4:26

Hut

3:28

3:01

3:38

3:19

Great gate

4:08*

4:28

5:12

4:57

TT

30:55

29:43

35:18

34:41

In the two pictures
marked with an asterisk, Moiseiwitsch
was obliged to make small cuts to squeeze
the music onto a 78 side; there are
other moments where it is possible to
wonder if some of his fast tempi were
forced on him for the same reason though
he invariably makes them sound convincing
– it’s an enthralling performance.

While Joyce Hatto’s
more expansive approach results in timings
similar to those of Del Pueyo, her interpretative
concerns are quite different. Del Pueyo’s
is essentially a colouristic performance
and he uses the extra time to create
some fascinating effects – a malevolently
drawn-out Gnomus for example. His unhatched
chicks are adorable and, whatever his
authority for bringing out the middle
voice in the trio, with the other
voice trilling gently above it, the
result is that we really do seem to
hear two separate chicks singing from
their different shells. Like Moiseiwitsch,
he is fairly free in adjusting the dynamics
and starts "Bydlo" piano.

Joyce Hatto shares
Moiseiwitsch’s concern that the music
should sound pianistic; her children
quarrelling in the Tuileries, for example,
are bathed in an affectionate glow and
seem first cousins to those who played
catch-me-who-can in Schumann’s "Kinderszenen".
But she goes a stage further, insisting
it should be done with no distortion
of the score. Everyone else seems to
suppose that, if a composer marks a
piece lasting between four and five
minutes pianissimo with no other dynamic
variations except a couple of hairpin
crescendo-diminuendos affecting just
four bars and a sudden forte at the
end, as Mussorgsky did in "Il vecchio
castello", dynamic variation has
to be found to make the piece interesting.
Hatto, while of course shading her tone
within the pianissimo, shows
that the music will hold the
attention as written. Only one thing
leaves me perplexed. While she starts
"Bydlo" fortissimo as written,
at bar 21 she suddenly makes a most
magical pianissimo. There is no trace
of this in the score I have in front
of me, issued by the International Music
Company and claiming to be the "authentic
edition" edited by Paul Lamm, though
without any discussion of sources or
possible variants. Richter’s juggernaut
at this point lurches inexorably onwards
at an indomitable fortissimo. But Joyce
Hatto has met a wide range of remarkable
musicians from many countries in the
course of her career and has always
been interested in information about
variant readings, whether the composer
be Mozart, Chopin or whomever, so it
is likely that she has authority for
this change; it would just be nice to
know what it is. In all other respects
her performance is very close to the
"authentic edition".

This is, then, a performance
very different from Richter’s; you need
only compare Richter’s determined march
into the picture gallery in the first
promenade – he means business! – with
Hatto’s more ruminative approach. It
does share with Richter, though, a concern
that the composer’s message should reach
us unvarnished, however differently
she carries out this intention. For
myself, I shall keep Richter by me for
his uncompromising dynamism, but I shall
also keep Del Pueyo at hand for his
rich characterisation of some of the
pieces and Moiseiwitsch for his sheer
verve, and I shall want to have Joyce
Hatto for the greater degree of humanity
she finds in music which can sometimes
seem a little empty in its brilliance.

If you look at the
front cover you might think you are
getting only the "Pictures",
but turn the package over and you find
there is the little matter of a fill-up
– Rachmaninov’s rare First Sonata. Since
many collectors who have at least one
"Pictures" may not have this,
it provides a strong additional incentive
for buying another "Pictures".
Here is an expansive, but far from sprawling
work (at least as it is played here)
from Rachmaninov’s maturity. Hatto has
long been a noted exponent of Rachmaninov
and she captures finely the ebb and
flow of the composer’s inspiration,
neither screwing the pressure too manically
nor dawdling luxuriantly, and is in
complete control of the complex textures,
replete with his usual countermelodies.

I have sometimes found
that Concert Artist’s insistence on
recordings with a concert hall perspective
produces slightly pallid results but
the results here are impressively full
and should disappoint no one. There
is a useful note; while telling us that
the artwork is by Fantasia Design Studios
they might have mentioned that the cover
is based on Hartmann’s original drawing
for the Great Gate of Kiev, his response
to a competition by the Kiev City Council
for a gate to commemorate the event
of April 4th 1866. In a remarkable
piece of doublethink, no one was allowed
to say what had actually happened on
April 4th 1866 (a bomb had
been thrown at the Tsar but he escaped
without injury). Neither Hartmann’s
gate nor that of any other competitor
was actually constructed.

Reviews
from previous monthsJoin the mailing list and receive a hyperlinked weekly update on the
discs reviewed. detailsWe welcome feedback on our reviews. Please use the Bulletin
Board
Please paste in the first line of your comments the URL of the review to
which you refer.